Far Stretched The Road
by Torithy
Summary: She was hurting. But so was he. She knew that. And unlike her, he needed to keep a clear head. Anything less was likely to get him killed.
1. One

**Author Note: **Anyone familiar with my writing will know that I've never been quite happy with one of my first attempts at SOA fanfiction, despite having grown pretty attached to my pairing along the way. Back when I first wrote Casting Shadows, I'd only started to watch the show and was seasons behind - so there were some unintentional inaccuracies, not to mention some stylistic choices that have since come to grate on me. I've always said I'd love to fix that. This is my attempt.

For those familiar with Kozik and Tasha's story, the choice to read on or not is yours. I decided to post this as a new story because the changes are so extensive that it would be difficult to just swap chapters in the originals. This is all the fics, which were pretty short, rolled into one. I'm not going to promise completely different outcomes, but I can't swear that I've stuck to my original plot either. I hope you, and those reading with completely fresh eyes, enjoy.

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><p><span><strong>Far Stretched The Road<strong>

**One**

In the dark heat of the clubhouse in full swing, the air was thick with sweat, blood and sex, and those closest to the ring roared approval at every body blow, while those further back clamoured for a better view of the action. Leather cuts had been carefully set aside, shirts shed, and rings pocketed. Bare knuckles were the only weapons allowed, but already they were proving more than enough to satisfy the bloodlust of the baying crowd.

There was a time when he had thrived on nights like this. A time when he would have taken centre stage with a swagger in his stride and a grin on his face, confidence personified. Not tonight. Tonight wasn't about brash showmanship. It wasn't even about settling a score. It was just about release.

Fists clenched, muscles flexing, Kozik ducked between the ropes to a rare moment's hush from those gathered. He knew there must be a hardness to his face that these occasions didn't usually call for, just like he knew what was almost certainly being whispered about. His jaw set all the tighter at the thought, while his opponent bounced on the balls of his feet.

"We dancing, or we gonna fucking _fight_?" he snarled at the unsuspecting nomad.

He didn't wait for the response to throw the first punch, putting his whole weight behind it. He knew it connected, and hard, but everything after that was little more than a blur.

* * *

><p>The adrenaline was still pumping and his chest still heaving when he found himself hauled bodily out of the ring to cool off, despite his protests. He'd taken more than a few solid shots himself, but even with bloodied knuckles, what promised to be a hell of a black eye and a split lip, he was in better shape than his now crumpled opponent.<p>

"Jesus, take it easy, bro. Twinkle-toes over there might be an asshole, but you don't gotta _kill_ him. You good?"

Jackson Teller. He could hardly tell the mother charter VP to shove his concern up his ass. Especially when he knew he meant well.

"I'm good," he managed, albeit through gritted teeth.

But the blue eyes trained on him only narrowed thoughtfully. "That some beef I don't know about?" Jax asked, jerking his head in the direction of the ring, even though he had to already know the answer.

Kozik shook his head, not trusting himself to speak and not really having the breath for it yet either. His opponent was still spark out, his head lolling on his shoulders as he was half-dragged, half-carried away to be revived.

"You need to cool down. Clean up." The advice came complete with a shot of something, even as some leggy redhead appeared at his elbow carrying his belongings and a first aid kit. She gave him what might have, on someone else, passed for a coy smile. But the ass-skimming, slashed-to-the-navel dress and hooker heels left nothing to the imagination. And that was clearly the point.

"Your poor face," she said, all wide-eyed sympathy. "Need me to ... make it better, sergeant?"

For a second, the thought of letting her lead him back to the dorms filled his mind, followed swiftly by the image of her on her knees in front of him. He grabbed the shot, downed it and then shook his head angrily as he slammed the empty glass back down on the bar and pulled his t-shirt and cut from her hands. "I gotta get out of here."

But even as he stormed outside, he realised he had nowhere else to go.

* * *

><p>"Ay, Koz, ya mind?"<p>

With the fight finally drained out of him and his broad shoulders slumped, the Tacoma sergeant shrugged from his perch on top of the picnic table. "Free country," he mumbled around his smoke.

"And the home o' the brave," came the wry response.

Filip Telford. Chibs to his club brothers. He could hardly tell him to fuck off either, all things considered.

"So how've ya been, my brother?" the Scotman asked, oh-so-casual like, moving to take a seat beside him as he stared out into the darkness. "Been a while."

"Guess so," Kozik nodded. "Took a while for the dust to settle after ... everything."

"And Tasha, she doin' okay?"

Inevitable though it was, the question still felt like a slug in the gut and he raked a hand through hair that was still damp with sweat. "From what she tells me," he said eventually, the reply loaded with everything he couldn't say. A glance towards his friend was all it took to know he understood.

"It ain't too late to get the wee lass down here," Chibs said. "We're gonna go on lockdown 'til this shit is done ..."

"She'd never go for it, not right now."

"Aye, I get that," the older man sighed, the look on his scarred face making Kozik wonder if his thoughts had turned to his own absent family. "Listen, man, I know we got a helluva mess brewin' here, but after ... I'm just sayin' ... we're all here for ya. All of us."

"One shit-storm at a time, dude," Kozik drawled, taking another drag on his cigarette. "One shit-storm at a time."

Clapping him on the back, Chibs finally left him alone with his thoughts. And with his wounds to lick, so to speak. There was no need for injured pride, having nearly put his younger opponent in the hospital, but he knew he'd lost control at times. Let his guard down. That wasn't like him and it didn't sit well. He could feel his goddamn eye closing and the dull throbbing in his ribs flared with his every move. His lip stung like a bitch too and he winced as he gave it an experimental poke. Fucking nomad and his lucky shots.

His cut lay beside him and he dug in his pocket for his phone, heaving a sigh as he considered it. His girl looked back at him from the screen, forever caught in that sexy-as-hell moment she'd winked and blown him a kiss, with laughter tugging at her soft lips and a twinkle in those beautiful green eyes. It felt like a lifetime since she'd kissed him. Longer since he'd seen her smile.

No missed calls, no messages. It made his heart sink all over again, knowing it never used to be that way.

Scrolling through his contacts, he found the number he was after and made the call, only to get on the receiving end of a recording telling him to leave a message after the beep. It was tempting to just hang up. But he couldn't.

"Hey, baby," he managed, trying to keep his tone upbeat as usual. "Not gonna make it back for a few days – got some extra business with the guys. So I guess I'll see you when it's done. Stay safe." And then, not as an afterthought, just with hesitation. "Love you."

Kozik hung up, finished what little was left of his cigarette and pitched the butt to the ground, stubbing it out under the toe of his heavy motorcycle boot. He knew the days that followed were likely to be brutal.

And, even after his turn in the ring, maybe that was exactly what he needed.

* * *

><p>Laid on his back on top of his clubhouse bed, trying to block out the noise that filtered through from the bar, Kozik recalled Clay Morrow's stern face as he'd looked around the table at his equally grim-faced brothers earlier. If anyone knew something about the torment the mother charter president was battling on the inside, it was him. That need for vengeance, to just <em>do<em> something rather than sit helpless.

There had been a time when tensions ran so high in Charming that Kozik had been glad of his place two states away in Tacoma. But that butting of heads between Clay and his step-son Jax, a situation that had looked like spilling into something much darker, now appeared to be over. They were all looking to them for answers to the latest cluster-fuck to rock up on the club's doorstep, trusting that they were now firmly back on the same page.

At least some good had come from the horror of Gemma's brutal gang rape.

He wiped a hand over his face at that thought. There was nothing _good_ about the club's women suffering at the hands of their enemies. Gemma may have been Clay's wife, Jax's mom, but she was family to them all. Just like Donna, Luann ... Tasha.

"Ten on ten," Clay had told those gathered. "Us or them. Someone ain't walking away."

The president had taken a moment to light a cigar and to let the weight of his words, and what they meant sink in, before flicking his Zippo closed. "That said, anyone want or need out? If you ain't down with this one hundred percent, you're no good to me. This ain't the time to be trying to save face. We have to walk out of this whole."

No one spoke. His men had just traded glances and then fixed their collective gaze back to the head of the table. Kozik would have been lying if he said much of the discussion hat had followed had sank in for him. There was too much already on his mind. But when he and Happy had been called on to lend their support as two of the chosen, he'd simply nodded like it should never have been a question. Those Nazi-loving bastards had to pay.

"Koz, you sure, man?" Jax had asked hesitantly, his tone low amid his obvious reluctance to single him out in front of everyone. "Family's what's getting us into this in the first place. No one's gonna say a word if you can't-"

"I'm in," he'd said. "Simple as."

And just like that, he'd once more put his life on the line for his club. Only this time, he couldn't help wondering if he had much left to lose.


	2. Two

**A/N: Thanks so much to those who took the time to read and review - I wasn't sure if there'd be much interest, so I appreciate it! :)**

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><p><strong>Two<strong>

Listening to the voicemail over and over in the darkness, Tasha Callahan fought back tears at the sound of that familiar voice. For the first time she could remember, he hadn't told her not to worry about him. Her heart ached at the idea that maybe he thought she wouldn't care, knowing that she had probably given him good reason.

How could she have pushed him away when he was hurting just as much as she was?

She sat up, wrapped in the sheets of a bed that felt much too big and empty without him, and pushed the long blonde tangles of her hair back from her face. He'd been gone on runs before, but suddenly she was acutely aware of every mile between them. It made her feel sick to her stomach. If anything happened ... If anything happened and he didn't know how she truly felt ...

Back when they'd first met, she hadn't been expecting ... well, anything from him really. She'd simply decided, after a run of disappointments, that it was time she allowed herself a little fun. It wasn't like she'd dated assholes in the past. The guys she'd been with, and there hadn't been many, had all been perfectly _nice_. Maybe that was the problem.

Sometimes _nice_ just wasn't enough.

And for all their lives were worlds apart, as the teacher and the outlaw, she couldn't deny she felt a hell of a spark between herself and the handsome, charismatic biker. Big bad sergeant he might have been – and, over the years, she'd come to learn exactly what that meant - but with her, he was just a relentless flirt with piercing blue eyes and a gorgeous smile.

Maybe they never should have worked, but somehow they just did.

"Oh, Koz," she managed softly, replaying the message one more time. She could hear his uncertainty and hated herself for doing that to him. She loved him too, _of course_ she did. She was just hurting. But so was he. She knew that. And unlike her, he needed to keep a clear head.

Anything less was likely to get him killed.

* * *

><p>Waking to the early morning light streaming through the crack in the drapes, her phone still clutched in her hand, Tasha realised she must have finally drifted off and hurried to slip out of bed, wrapping herself in her silky robe.<p>

But trying to call Kozik back only made it her turn to face a recorded message and a sudden chill ran down her spine, however irrational it may have been. Distant though they had been lately, she knew enough to realise times were hard for the club. She dreaded to think what that _extra business_ keeping him away might mean.

"Come on, Koz, pick up," she urged, trying again. "Shit."

She knew it could be nothing. It was early and the clubhouse wasn't known for keeping respectable hours. He'd probably just turned his phone off to catch up on some sleep. An insidious little suggestion that he might not be alone wormed its way into her brain and she closed her eyes as she tried to block it out. It would never usually have crossed her mind that he might be unfaithful, but given how cold she'd been towards him ...

The thought that he might seek actual warmth and affection elsewhere was somehow even more chilling than the prospect of him indulging in some drunken, meaningless fuck.

She trailed her fingertips over the ink on the underside of her wrist that marked her as his, and steeled herself for another call before she had time to change her mind. "Gemma?" she said at the pick-up. "It's Tasha. In Tacoma?"

"Of course, sweetheart. How are you?" The MC queen kept her tone light, underlain with unspoken sympathy that wasn't lost on her caller - but also with a discernable coolness, however slight. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm really sorry to disturb you so early, but I just wondered if you knew if Kozik was around? I tried to call him, but his phone's been off."

"Clay's orders, I'd imagine," Gemma said. "No distractions."

Tasha frowned. That didn't exactly bode well, all things considered. "I ... Koz didn't tell me what's going on. He just said it was club business. Should I be worried?" Even for the other end of the line, she could tell that the matriarch was weighing up how much to tell her. "Gem? Come on, _please_."

And, after a pause, she got her answer.

Tasha's voice caught in her throat. "When?"

"Listen, darlin', I know you're upset, but-"

"_When_, Gemma?"

The queen probably wasn't used to being spoken to in that tone by anyone who wasn't her husband, and even he would have thought twice, but Tasha was in no state of mind to care.

"Not 'til after dark," Gemma said finally. "But- Hello? Dammit ..."

* * *

><p>Her phone lay ringing on the bed, but after a cursory glance to make sure it wasn't Kozik, Tasha let it ring in favour of grabbing the first clothes that came to hand. As soon as she was ready, in ripped jeans, a simple white t-shirt and well-worn ankle boots, she started to stuff a few extra things into an overnight bag. She wouldn't need much. Hell, she'd buy a whole new wardrobe in California if she had to – just as long as she got the chance to put things right. That was the only thing that mattered.<p>

Twisting her hair into a messy bun, she reached for her leather jacket and pulled it on as she ran through her mental checklist. Phone, wallet, keys. That was all she really needed. But, after a moment's hesitation, she headed back to the bedroom and opened the wardrobe to lift down a shoe-box from the top shelf. Her fingers brushed the cool steel of the tiny concealed carry Berretta and she picked it up reluctantly. She had no intention of using it, but you could never be sure. She knew that.

With her bag in one hand, she headed for the door, only pausing to graze her fingers over the framed photo on the hall table. Her and Kozik in front of his Harley, his arm slung over her shoulder and both hers wrapped around his waist under his cut, both of them laughing as he whispered something undoubtedly dirty in her ear. God, they'd been so happy back then ... She missed that.

Fresh tears shone in her eyes, but with new determination, she locked up and then climbed into the driver's seat of the big black Escalade parked in the drive. It took a deep breath to steady her nerves and start the engine, before she peeled away without a backwards glance.

Charming was a good twelve hours away and every second was going to count.


	3. Three

**Three**

The Teller-Morrow matriarch sighed as she sat at her kitchen table nursing a steaming cup of coffee and wishing, not for the first time, that she could just bang some heads together and have done with it. Sometimes she wondered how any of them would manage without her. And as if she didn't have enough on her plate already, now she seemed to be taking on Tacoma's shit too.

Their president, Lee North, was a single man in his fifties – an ex-career soldier, no real ties. No old lady, no kids. The Sons were his family, but the club _always_ came first. It wasn't that he couldn't see Kozik was going through a bad time, or that he didn't care. He just had no idea how to fix it. And as long as the impact on the club didn't deepen, he was resigned to letting it slide.

They operated differently in Charming.

Clay was president, first and foremost. But he was also her husband, a father to Jax, grandfather to Abel. She had seen for herself how his priorities could shift and knew he understood that it was the same for his guys. Besides, it was easier for him – he could let her handle the domestic shit.

Gemma lifted the joint smouldering on the rim of her ashtray and took a delicate drag as she considered whether or not to go in search of the Tacoma sergeant. The last thing any of them needed right now was one of their best soldiers with his head up his ass and maybe knowing his girl was on her way would give him something to fight for. But he had the club for that, the queen mused, slowly exhaling a thin stream of fragrant smoke.

It was much more likely his only concern would be for Tasha travelling alone and now was definitely not the time.

God knows she'd come to like the pretty little civilian, despite her initial doubts. She'd been sceptical at best back when she first heard on the grapevine about what had then been dismissed as nothing more than Kozik's latest hook-up. In her mind, the teacher wouldn't have been the first _good girl _to dabble with a bit of rough and rack up a lost weekend or two under a patch, and she wouldn't have been the last either. She'd never thought it would come to anything real.

Years later, how wrong she had been.

Gemma knew all too well, and from personal experience, how this life could take its toll. She had long since had to steel herself against it and learn to weather the storms as best she could. But, while even her jaded heart had broken for the couple over what they'd been forced to go through, she knew that now was the time they should be pulling together – not apart.

She'd had to face that reality and come clean to her husband and her son about what had happened to her the night that bastard AJ Weston and his men had taken her. Tearing the band aid off, so to speak, had been the only thing that seemed to have allowed the healing to begin. Her boys were united again, albeit in a need for bloody vengeance, but it was infinitely better to have them join forces against a common enemy rather than tearing at each other's throats.

Tasha needed to do the same. Quit pushing Kozik away and find a way to get right with what had happened, terrible as it was. Gemma had to acknowledge that the little blonde had, underneath the calm exterior, proved to be a tough bitch and smart with it. She'd figured out her own way to make her place in their world. In their family. That wasn't something to just turn your back on.

With a sigh, the queen stubbed out her smoke and stood to go feed her precious birds, her course of action decided. Some things were better left as they were.

"Time enough for tearful reunions when this shit is handled," she muttered, to no one but the crows.

* * *

><p><em>Clear heads<em>, Clay had said. Laid on his back on the clubhouse bed, his arms folded behind his head, Kozik could honestly say it had been months since that was anything like an option for him. One night, a night that was still hellishly fresh in his over-active mind, had changed everything.

Maybe if he could have taken his bike out, he could have found a way to switch off and concentrate solely on the road, but that just wasn't possible with the lock-down firmly in place. They couldn't risk anyone getting jumped alone. And the rest of the guys seemed content to be seeking solace in the places they usually found it, mostly at the bottom of a whiskey bottle or buried in the snatch of some croweater or other.

He'd had his share of offers, those who knew him just chancing their arm and others more persistent in their efforts, but he'd waved them all away in favour of solitude. He wasn't usually the maudlin type, but there was only one woman he wanted sharing his bed and she sure as fuck wasn't some easy pass-around.

The biker wiped a hand over his face and sighed as he realised a sliver of moonlight was breaking through the crack in the drapes. Nearly time. It had been clear and the moon just as bright that night too, he recalled. As if he could forget the least little detail.

He remembered how Tasha had pointed up at a shooting star as they strolled towards her car, her arm tucked through his and a beautiful, happy smile tugging at her lips as she told him to make a wish. They had both been blissfully content in each other's company, relaxed after one of Gemma's infamous dinners – one of the rarer drama-free occasions and the last they were expecting to be able to make for a few months at least. It was a long way for a flying visit, but the queen had been dying to see them and demanded their presence.

They hadn't really minded though. With no cuts required and no hangers-on, it had been welcome family time. In the extended sense, of course.

He hadn't needed a wish and told Tasha so as he planted a sloppy kiss on her with a grin. _"Got everything I need right here, baby girl."_

Corny as hell and it had made her roll her eyes, laughing at him, but that was exactly the response he'd wanted. God, he loved her laugh. Not that he heard it much these days. That, like so much else, had ultimately been stolen from him that night.

The thump of a fist on the door drew his attention without quite breaking his reverie.

"Time to go, brother," he heard Chibs call, even as he hauled himself up and tugged on his boots.

Minutes later, Kozik strode across the compound in the growing dusk, game face already on and one hand raking through the spikes of his hair.

He could feel gazes on him and his brothers, patches outside the chosen few, plus a lot of the club's women. He barely spared them a glance though, trying to focus on shutting everything out. They had to go out there in the right frame of mind, all indestructible swagger, unswayable confidence and lethal force.

But he heard Gemma murmur to Clay as he passed them, urging him to come back to her, saw Tara channel her fear for Jax into a last kiss, and caught sight of Lyla wrapping her arms around Opie to keep him close as long as possible. The look in his eyes hardened, even as he turned wistfully towards Tacoma.

He couldn't help wondering if he even crossed her mind, when thoughts of her were all that filled his.

* * *

><p>By the time she made her third and hopefully final stop for gas, Tasha was already feeling the ache of her long lonely drive in her limbs. Much as she didn't have time to waste, she had to stretch her legs for a moment before settling behind the wheel again. She wasn't used to driving such long distances. Even the longer trips on the back of Kozik's bike seemed easier now by comparison, when she could all but zone out with her head resting against his broad back, trusting him to take care of her as his Harley ate up the miles.<p>

She'd have given anything to have the chance to just wrap her arms around him again and let the rest of the world fly by, fading into so much scenery.

But the memory of that night still haunted her and, even now, she could practically feel the warmth and weight of his hand on her knee. He'd take his bike over her cage any time, but he hadn't seemed to mind right then as his other hand tapped out a little beat on the steering wheel in time with the song playing low on the radio. She'd kept stealing little glances at him out of the corner of her eye, so in love with the contented smile on his handsome face, even as sleep threatened to overtake her.

Her hand trembled as she swallowed a long sip of water from the chilled bottle purchased at the gas station and closed her eyes against the memories that had once again welled up unbidden.

If she'd known back then that she was going to wake up to her world being torn apart, she might have fought harder not to fall asleep.

* * *

><p>Falling into line behind his brothers from the mother charter, opting to bring up the rear, Kozik couldn't help tensing as the prospects pulled the Teller-Morrow van into the convoy right behind his bike. Black vans would always make him a little edgier now, yet another legacy of that night.<p>

He'd cursed himself for not realising sooner, especially when he'd had Tasha by his side. He'd had his suspicions after all, from the moment the vehicle had sped up to catch them, but then hung back instead of overtaking. And when he'd slowed, the van had too. Unlike their crew's low profile vehicle, it had borne a logo splashed across its sides. Its occupants hadn't cared though. It was just stolen, presumably destined to be torched. After.

His grip tightened on the handlebars of his bike at the memory of having been singled out as a target.

He should have known. They weren't in a good area, just a wilderness of sorts, halfway between Charming and Tacoma. It was an area the Sons had less clout in, but where they'd shut down a top heroin trafficker the previous week all the same, because he'd pissed off the Oregon president. Shut down in the permanent sense.

His mind drifted from the road ahead and back to the twists and turns of that journey, as he remembered as clearly as if it had been yesterday how he had made a sharp left without signalling, just to check. The tail was still there. He'd sworn under his breath as the van bore down on them, his foot heavy on the gas and the speedometer creeping up. Then came the jolt as the van caught the rear bumper.

"Koz?" Tasha had sat up straighter, rubbing sleepily at her eyes. "What's wrong? Did we hit something?"

"We got a problem, doll," he'd admitted. "But it's okay, just hang tight."

_It's okay._ He'd told her it was okay ...

And then they were racing along twisting roads in the darkness, his foot to the floor of her beat-up old Honda and the van driver no longer even attempting to hide what he was doing – trying to run them off the road.

They had to have been watching them for a while to know who they were after. Kozik wasn't on his bike, wasn't wearing his cut. But they had to have known who he was. This was no random act of intimidation.

"Fuck!" Kozik had ground out as he struggled with the wheel, the car veering wildly across the road and making Tasha gasp in alarm as she grabbed for the Jesus handle above her window. Fumbling in the pocket of his jeans for his cellphone, he'd tossed it to his girl. "Call Lee. No, wait - we're closer to Charming, just about. Call Clay, tell him the H-bomb dropped and we need back-up. He'll get it. Tell him to get word to Rogue River. This is their turf."

Wide-eyed, she'd done as she was told. The conversation was short and terse, her panic barely contained.

"They're on their way," she'd told him, looking back over her shoulder in fear. "Happy and Chibs are on a run with the Oregon guys, Clay'll make sure they send whoever they can round up. Who are they, Koz? What the hell do they want?"

"Hey," he'd said sharply, reaching out to turn her face to his with one hand. "Hey, look at me. You don't gotta worry. It's gonna be okay, babe. I _promise_."

He'd _promised_.

Then their aggressors started shooting.

It had all happened so fast after that. It was only later that he would realise the gunfire had blown out one of their rear tyres, sending the car into an uncontrollable spin off the road and into a wall with a sickening crunch.

When Kozik came to, he'd been dimly aware of something warm and wet on the side of his face, but his first coherent thoughts were for Tasha - before he realised three men in balaclavas had jumped from the van and were fast approaching.

They must have been expecting him to either be unarmed or in no shape to defend himself. Amateur mistake if they knew anything about the Sons and how they operated. He wasn't the sergeant-at-arms for shits and giggles, as the first of the men had probably realised in the split second before he took a bullet to the face.

The other two were more on the ball, weapons already drawn. But with Tasha to think about, Kozik didn't even hesitate to haul himself out of the wreck, unflinching even under the hail of bullets that rained around him and taking the two of them out before racing to the van.

With a fury born primarily out of fear for the woman he loved, he'd roared at the driver to get out of the stalled van which was now failing to start for him. Not waiting for him to comply, he'd instead smashed the window with the butt of his gun and hauled the much scrawnier man through the opening like a rag-doll before driving him face first into the tarmac.

The agonised howl died on the driver's lips as the bullet blasted through the back of his neck.

Breathing heavily, Kozik had bent over with his hands on his knees, vaguely aware of a searing pain in his shoulder. But, after just a few seconds, he'd tucked his Glock into the waistband of his jeans at his back and forced himself to jog to the passenger's side of the crashed car.

"Tash, you okay, babe? Tasha? Oh, shit!"

Trying to force himself to concentrate, his eyes fixed on the patch of the rider in front of him, he tried to remind himself what lay ahead. He needed to focus on that bastard Weston and helping to make him pay.

But all he could see behind his eyes was Tasha slumped in her seat, a sight that was more than enough to make him grab the door handle to try to get to her. The metal had buckled too badly to cooperate at first and he'd had to wrench at it until he was shaking from the strain on his muscles before it finally gave under the brute force.

"Tasha, sweetie, wake up. Come on, baby, please," he'd begged, brushing her blonde hair back from her face, one eye on the smoke starting to billow from beneath the hood of her car. Realising the whole thing could go up any minute. "Jesus ..."

Scared to move her in case he did more damage, but more scared not to, he'd eased her into his arms and somehow manoeuvred her out of the car, carrying her lifeless form to a safe distance before he laid her gently on the ground. In spite of everything he'd ever seen, everything he'd ever done, he'd been horrified to find, as he dialled 911 and demanded an ambulance, that he was now covered in blood that had to be hers.

And that was how Happy, Chibs and the others found him when they'd pulled up in a shower of gravel and clambered off their bikes - on the ground in a growing pool of blood, cradling the crumpled body of his heavily pregnant girlfriend in his arms.

The memory was almost as dark as that night itself.


	4. Four

**Four**

Abandoning the Escalade at the roadside, Tasha ran to the gates of the locked-down Teller-Morrow compound, realising the armed prospects guarding it wouldn't let the vehicle in if they didn't recognise her and had no warning she was coming. She had to have made the journey in record time, blotting out everything but her need to get there in time. Her need to see _him_.

"Gemma!" she called, ignoring the looks drawn by her frantic waves to the older woman as soon as she spotted her, flanked by the girlfriends of her son and his best friend. All three were obviously waiting to see their men off.

"Let her in," Gemma instructed those posted on sentry duty. She looked like she had been expecting this, but there was something else – something Tasha couldn't quite read.

"I drove straight here," the blonde said, already hurrying for the clubhouse. "Are they inside? Can I go in? They're not in church, are they?

"Tasha ... Tash, slow down," Gemma sighed, catching her by the arm before she could get any further. "Jesus ... I'm sorry, baby – you're too late. He's gone. They've gone."

* * *

><p>Staring into the distance, watching the lights of a couple of pick-up trucks approaching, Kozik shifted impatiently. His eyes narrowed as he tried to loosen up the muscles in his neck and shoulders in preparation. He was only dimly aware of the other guys flanking him – Juice on one side, looking more focused than he remembered ever seeing the usually upbeat Puerto Rican, and a grim-faced yet oddly at ease Happy on the other.<p>

"No one moves 'til I give the word," Jax was warning, but the Tacoma sergeant barely heard him.

He was getting pretty fucking sick of being a target, but he knew what he'd signed up to – the risks that balanced out the pride with which he wore the reaper on his back, both on the leather of his cut and inked in his skin. Bastards like these going after their family though, innocent women, that really made his blood boil. He was no angel, he knew that. He wasn't above backhanding some broad who needed telling. Or making a threat to get the result his club needed. He did whatever needed to be done.

But even he, like the rest of his brothers, had a line that didn't get crossed.

He'd hurt people. Scared people. Killed people. For the good of his club. Yeah, he'd made mistakes in his time. Done shit he wished he hadn't, things he couldn't take back. But he could put his hand on his heart and swear he'd never actively targeted anyone who hadn't, by their own actions, put themselves in his sights. He honoured his club, defended his brothers, protected his _family_.

And it killed him to know it hadn't been enough to spare his girl from pain.

He could still hear his brothers' horrified murmurs as they took in the carnage by the roadside that night. Happy had been there, Chibs too, and a few of the guys from Rogue River, his counterpart included. Knox had been sergeant-at-arms for years and seen a hell of a lot of bad shit, but even he had seemed at a loss.

"Jesus fucking Christ..." he'd managed, wiping a hand over his bearded face. "What can we do? Chibs?"

"I was a field medic, Knox - not a bloody midwife!" the Scotsman had bit out sharply, but he'd dropped to his knees beside them just the same.

"Easy now, lovie," he'd soothed, touching a hand to Tasha's cheek and trying to sound in control. "That little 'un of yours doesn't need its mum all worked up. Just lie back, that's a good girl."

Kozik all but flinched at the memory of how his girl had come round in his arms moments earlier, only to gasp in agony as she clutched at her stomach and at his t-shirt, begging him to make the pain stop. His fists tightened and his jaw set at the thought of her terrified sobs. How she'd begged him and he'd been powerless to help.

"Oh god, the b-baby ... Koz, our baby ..."

Fresh tears had stung his eyes and he hadn't given a shit who saw them. "Fuck, Chibs, do something!" he'd pleaded. "Just hold on, Tash. It's gonna be okay, darlin'. I promise. I got ya. I got ya ..."

He knew he'd already broken his promise once that night, but that was all he had left. Desperate promises he didn't know if he could keep.

Dragged from his thoughts by the realisation that one of Weston's men was already bearing down on him, Kozik's smile was almost a snarl as he grabbed him by the shoulders and drove his knee hard into his stomach to send him crumpling to the ground. But he wasn't done with him. Oh no, not by a long shot.

All through the isolated clearing, Sons were handing out beat-downs. After their opponents' devious attempt to gain the upper hand, the fights were brutal, bloody, and for the most part brief. And he could have finished his just as quickly, but instead he was actually dragging his guy back up and forcing him to stay on his feet. One hand fisted in the front of his shirt as the other rained blows on his already mangled face.

It was supposed to be about Jax and Clay's revenge on Weston for what he'd done to Gemma. But bad as that was, all Kozik could see was Tasha. From the fun-loving young woman who'd only been all the more gorgeous to him with her glowing skin and growing belly, to the shockingly fragile figure who'd lain in that hospital bed ...

And with the men who'd put her there already dead and gone by his hand, these bastards would just have to bear the brunt of his frustrations. They were all the fucking same anyway.

* * *

><p>"You should have been here sooner, honey," Gemma said, her tone matter-of-fact. Blunt. She never had believed in sugar-coating anything and, in her mind, the Tacoma old lady still had a lot to learn about the etiquette of taking care of her man. "We're on lockdown. Everyone. As a club. A <em>family<em>."

"Sorry," Tasha forced a tight smile as she looked up. "Can't think why I wouldn't be on board with that. Ready to sit down and play happy families. My bad."

Waiting until she'd lit another cigarette and taken a long drag, Gemma willed herself to be patient. "Cut the sarcasm, it don't suit you," she said, levelling her gaze on the young woman sitting opposite her. But she took in the trembling hands, the eyes that had lost their former sparkle. She was skinnier than she had been too – just enough to notice. "Listen, sweetheart," she said finally. "I know you've been through hell, but you're tearing that man apart."

She'd thought it would take more, but the tears were already glistening. The guilt palpable. She wasn't telling the girl anything she didn't already know.

"Anyone can see he adores you, but he's starting to think you damn near _hate_ him!" she added, for good measure. No point pulling any punches if they were going to find a way through this shit.

"I know I've fucked up so badly," Tasha whispered, her voice choked as she dashed the back of her hand across her eyes. "And I've got no idea how to fix things. The things I said. How I've been. I ... I never _meant_ to take it out on him, I really didn't. I wouldn't blame him if he left me ..."

"Is that what you want?" Gemma asked, her suspicions about the young woman's motives bubbling to the surface. She couldn't help it. She knew from experience how manipulative people were capable of being. And just because Tasha was feeling sorry didn't mean her actions hadn't been deliberate. "Are you trying to push him away? You can't handle this life, but you haven't got the guts to walk out, so you want Kozik to do it for you?"

"NO!" his old lady gasped, lifting her head with a look in those desperate green eyes that even the hardened queen found heart-breaking. "God, Gemma, I _love_ him. I've never stopped loving him. And I can't stand the thought of losing him. I just _can't_."

"Then you gotta show him, baby," came the advice, lips pursed in satisfaction at the answer. "Before it really is too late."


	5. Five

**A/N: Think I'll just cut this at the end of what would have been Casting Shadows after all, instead of bothering with Koz and Tasha's whole story. Guess there's something about them and that six-chapter mark.**

* * *

><p><strong>Five<strong>

Curled up on the couch, clutching a cushion to her chest, Tasha's eyes kept flicking to her watch as minutes turned to hours. Her mind had long since flicked into overdrive.

What if she was too late? What if she had pushed him away until he was sick of dealing with her, if she had hurt him too badly? What if he had decided he'd finally had enough and she wasn't worth the hassle?

He'd always had girls practically hanging off him at the clubhouse back home, it was probably the same here. Worse because he didn't have to be reminded about her. On runs to Charming or further afield, he could be that single guy again. No ties or responsibilities. No drama, just desperate women offering themselves up on a plate. Younger women, hotter women. Porn stars, for Christ's sake.

And that aside, there was her other fear. One too horrible to even think about. One she tried to push out of her mind, but which kept creeping back like some all-consuming cancer, sowing misery in her thoughts. Growing, deepening. Threatening to overwhelm her.

The fear that Clay or Jax or someone would walk through that door and tell her that shit had turned bad. That they were sorry, but there was nothing they could do.

Someone was always sorry. Fat lot of good that did when they were breaking your heart. She knew that from experience. The doctors had been sorry ...

And Kozik had been sorry too. Fresh guilt hit her when she remembered how broken he had looked. She didn't think she'd ever seen him cry before. Or since. How could she have pushed him away like that, when he was hurting just as much as she was?

He'd been so excited about being a dad. And when they'd found out they were having a little boy ... God, she'd thought he was going to explode with pride and he'd hardly been able to wait to share the news with the guys, both in Tacoma and Charming. She'd practically been able to see his mind working, already picturing how he would teach his son to throw a football, ride his first bike ...

Not even Tig's usual sniping had been able to bring him down when they'd visited to share their news.

"Bitch got you whipped, boy," the curly-haired, sharp-eyed older man had smirked, having overheard Kozik dismiss swapping his bike for her cage for the trip.

"Call her a bitch again, Tiggy, and you'll be the only one getting whipped," Kozik had said, his tone casual and his smile deceptively friendly. "Anyway, we weren't just passing – we've got some news. Get ready to extend the Reaper Crew, boys. There's gonna be the pitter-patter of little feet around Tacoma ..."

"You're getting a dog?" Bobby had deadpanned, but he and the others were already starting to smile at the obvious announcement.

"This amazing woman's having my baby!" Kozik had grinned, curling an arm around her waist as she'd smiled up at him. "How cool is _that_?!"

"That's very cool, man," Clay had smiled, shaking the proud father-to-be's hand and leaning down to kiss Tasha's cheek. "Congratulations. Hey, this calls for a celebration!"

"You're gonna have your hands full looking after two kids," Tig had told her, shooting a scathing look in his counterpart's direction.

"Aww, Tiggy!" Kozik had just grinned, overhearing him. "That was almost sweet. I think he was offering to babysit, darlin'."

"The hell I was!" had been the glared response, before he was pushed aside by Chibs.

"Ay congratulations, lass. 'Course, you know this is almost totally gonna ruin any chance of you and me runnin' away together?"

"Almost?" Tasha had laughed, as the Scotsman pulled her into a warm hug. Chibs was almost as big a flirt as Kozik himself and, despite the foul mouth and hot temper, his big heart and twinkling brown eyes rarely failed to win the ladies over. That or get him into trouble.

"Never say never," he'd winked, kissing her cheek. "You make sure that man of yours takes good care of you, love."

"Oh he will," she'd smiled. "He always does."

* * *

><p>With all his own pain and anger pouring out, it took the sudden wail of police sirens to break Kozik's focus and he finally let go of his unfortunate target, letting the body slump lifeless to the ground. He straightened up, breathing heavily and taking in the extent of the damage. His knuckles were bruised and bloodied, his ribs protesting from where a couple of lucky blows had landed early on, and his shoulders aching from the force of his own punches.<p>

"Who the fuck called the cops?" he demanded, aiming a retaliatory kick at his downed opponent's ribs.

"Easy, man," Jax said, even though he evidently shared his frustrations. "Hey, come on. Let's just get the hell out of here before Hale decides to pull us all in."

It was all right for him to say, Kozik thought. He had family to go home to.

* * *

><p>"Oh come on, Abel – Daddy's not here right now, be a good boy and go to sleep," Tara whispered, breaking Tasha out of her reverie as she walked in rocking the fractious baby in her arms. "He won't settle," she said, by way of explanation. "I think it's because Jax isn't here."<p>

Offering a tight smile, Tasha watched the doctor's efforts as she tried to sooth the youngster, her gaze drawn to the baby boy despite her best efforts. It didn't dawn on Tara for a couple of minutes, occupied as she was.

"Oh, Tasha, I'm sorry," she said guiltily. "I should have thought – I'll take him out-"

"Don't be silly. Here, let me take him for you for a bit."

"Are you sure?"

But the blonde just nodded and got to her feet, holding out her arms to take the child and cradling him to her chest. "Hey, Abel," she whispered, one gentle finger caressing his baby-soft cheek as he gurgled up at her. "He's getting big. Looks so much like Jax too."

Nodding, Tara took the opportunity to sit down, watching Tasha as she paced back and forth in an effort to get the already drowsy baby back to sleep. "You're good with him," she smiled. "A natural. You'll be a great mom some day."

"We'll see," Tasha said, not looking up.

"I mean, you two do still want kids?" Tara prompted gently, not wanting to push too much but thinking it might help her friend to start thinking more about the future. "You and Kozik?"

"Koz would love to be a dad," came the soft reply. "He'd be great too. I know what some people think of him, I know what he's capable of too – the things he's done for the club ... But he's different with me."

"He loves you." Tara got it. After all, she was an old lady of a Son as well and, while Jax may have been awarded his rank by birth rather than earning it like Kozik, she knew what he too was capable of when he wasn't with her and Abel.

"The doctors said we might have trouble, you know? After what happened. Because of my injuries ... I might not be able to have kids," Tasha admitted quietly, stunning her companion into silence with the fresh revelation.

"I ... I'm so sorry, I had no idea," Tara said finally, mortified as she realised the unwitting insensitivity she had shown with her earlier comments. "But they didn't totally rule it out, right? I mean, you could still try ..."

"I guess I just don't know how much more Koz can handle," she sighed. "After all the shit I've given him, blaming the club for what happened, I don't get why he wouldn't just find someone else. Make things easier for himself. There are plenty of girls in Tacoma – here too probably – who'd give their right arm to be with him. Girls who'd love the prestige of being with a Son, especially one with rank. Girls who aren't damaged goods."

"Don't say that," Tara frowned. "That's not what you are. Not to anyone, but especially not to Kozik."

"He wants to be a father, Tara. If I can't give him that, what else would you call me?"

"Listen, that man loves you more than you realise," the doctor told her earnestly. "I remember after the accident, Jax coming home from the hospital to fill us in, telling us what a state Koz was in. How he'd told the doctors that they had to save his family – but that if it came down to a choice ... they had to save _you_. He was devastated you lost the baby, but losing you would have _killed_ him."

Fighting a losing battle to keep back tears, Tasha looked down at the now sleeping baby in her arms and couldn't help imagining how different things could have been. "I need to make things right with him."

"Damn right, you do," Gemma said from the doorway where she'd been listening, head cocked to one side and her arms folded across her chest. "So like I told you, darlin', moping around here looking like shit ain't gonna cut it. We got work to do."


	6. Six

**A/N: Done and done.**

* * *

><p><strong>Six<strong>

"I feel kinda stupid ..."

"Not really what we're going for here. Come on, sweetheart, do you want to make an effort for your man or not?"

"I guess I'm too busy worrying about getting him back in one piece to care whether I look like a croweater or not."

"A croweater? Oh, please – give us some credit!" Gemma smirked as she admired her handiwork. "Although you are borrowing from a porn star's wardrobe. No offense."

"None taken," Lyla grinned from the doorway. "You look amazing, Tash. That top looks _way_ better on you. Just try not to let Kozik rip it off you ..."

Flushing just a little under the teasing, Tasha couldn't help letting the enthusiasm of the other women infect her, despite everything. In her head, she knew it would take a lot more than a slick of lipgloss and borrowed clothes to get things properly back on track. But, all the same, there was no denying the butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

"I feel like a kid before her first date!" she admitted with a little laugh, her eyes still obediently closed as someone finished fixing her hair.

"Well, you sure don't look like one," Tara smiled. "I think we're done here ..."

The three women stood back to survey her critically, taking in the tousled blonde waves that tumbled over her shoulders, the silk camisole that clung to her curves and brought out her clear green eyes. It had taken a dose of instant fake tan to regain the healthy glow she'd once had, but she looked all the better for it. But before they could allow her to even get a look in the mirror, they were interrupted.

By the rumble of motorbikes.

Her eyes flying open, Tasha jumped to her feet and exchanged helpless glances with Lyla, Tara and Gemma. Despite having put a brave face on it, none of them had any idea what to expect. They didn't know if the ten men who rode out earlier had all returned, or how badly any or all of them might be injured.

Hurrying for the door, they ran out to the yard, all four trying to count bikes and look for their man.

Tasha's heart dropped into her stomach, but in the next instant, she spotted a figure she would recognise anywhere right at the end of the line. He looked a little more tired than usual as he swung his leg over his bike to dismount, hanging his helmet on the handlebars before trying to straighten out the protesting muscles in his shoulders. But he was whole and that was all that mattered.

She wanted to run to him, but her legs didn't seem to be co-operating. He had spotted her though, obviously shocked to see her stood there and she hated that he hadn't expected her - that she would ever have put any doubt in his mind about how she felt.

"Oh god, Koz ..." she whispered.

* * *

><p>The old bullet wound from that darkest of nights was making its presence felt even over the protesting of his muscles as he pulled his Harley into the Teller-Morrow compound. While his brothers were still either full of adrenaline from their retaliation having been cut short or relief at the prospect of going home to their families, he'd climbed back on his bike with a heavy heart. For him, Weston and his gang had been a welcome distraction. He was better equipped to deal with aching muscles than an aching heart.<p>

What did he have to come home to? A bottle of Jack and an empty bed. And the knowledge that his girl would rather be hurting alone hundreds of miles away than anywhere near him.

Kozik unbuckled his helmet and climbed wearily off his bike, barely sparing a glance around the compound. He didn't begrudge his brothers their happiness, but he didn't need to see them in the arms of their old ladies either. Christ, he couldn't even bring himself to be truly angry about it. He couldn't blame Tasha for how she felt, not after everything she'd been through. But, fuck, how he missed her. He'd have given anything to ...

Jesus Christ.

For a split second, he thought he must be mistaken. That the glimpse he caught out of the corner of his eye couldn't possibly be real. It seemed everyone else was quicker on the uptake.

"Aw, come on now, lad! The wee girl came all this way for your sorry arse, least you could do is make it worth her while!" Chibs hollered across the lot.

He flipped him off even as he strode towards her, unsure what kind of reception to expect once he got there and offering her a hesitant, lopsided smile. "Hey, darlin'," he tried.

"Hi," she managed softly, tears sparkling in those gorgeous green eyes as she reached out and pulled him close. "God, Koz, I'm so sorry. For everything."

Still floored to have her there at all, let alone holding him like she'd never let go, Kozik's arms came up around her and he closed his eyes to savour the moment he never thought he'd get. "Oh, baby, don't," he murmured, feeling the heat of her tears as she hide her face against his neck. And he meant it. He didn't need her to be sorry, just to not have given up on him.

"I ... I love you. I know I haven't shown it, but ..."

Lifting her right off her feet as he wrapped her up in a tight hug at her words, one hand in her hair, he pressed a kiss to her temple and couldn't help grinning at the whistles from his watching brothers. "I love you too," he told her, setting her back on her feet in front of him and tilting her face up to his. "Always have. Always will."

He only realised just how much he'd missed that smile when he finally got it back again. It was hesitant and tearful, but it was there and, right now, that was good enough for him. He leaned down to capture her mouth with his, everyone else around them forgotten as she kissed him back.

"All right, all right – put him down, love," Chibs shouted, the novelty of the happy reunion evidently having worn off. "Any chance of a welcome home for the rest of us poor buggers?"

* * *

><p>Sitting side by side on the edge of the bed in the soft glow of the tiny lamp, Kozik could hardly take his eyes off Tasha as she gently cleaned the blood from his hands. He barely even flinched under the sting of the antiseptic.<p>

"What?" he asked, as she glanced up from what she was doing from beneath long lashes and laughed softly.

"You, looking at me like that. You're not even saying anything and you're making me blush."

"Just thinkin' how much I don't deserve you," he told her, stealing a soft kiss but frowning when her smile faded and she tried to turn her attention back to what she had been doing. "Tash? What did I do wrong?"

"You didn't do anything wrong," Tasha whispered, feeling even worse that he kept trying to shoulder some kind of blame. Blame she had no right to put on him. "Just ... Just don't say that, okay? That you don't deserve me. It was never true, but especially not after what I did to you."

"Tash ..." Kozik sighed, slipping his hands out of hers and putting the cotton wool she'd been using to one side before reaching out to tilt her face back up to his. "Don't do this to yourself, baby."

Seeing the side of him no one else ever did, Tasha leaned in to kiss him softly. He might have been Tacoma's ruthless killer and Sam Crow's dependable muscle, but under that confident exterior lay the man she knew would do anything for her. The man who made her feel like no one else ever had. She'd been so wrapped up in everything she'd lost that she'd hadn't spared a thought for what she still had. What they'd been through had been hellish, but it could have been so much worse. She could have lost everything that night.

Slowly, she reached for the buttons of his shirt, his hooded sweatshirt already off and over the back of a chair. Feeling the heat of his gaze on her, she pushed the soft material over his shoulders and traced her fingers tenderly over the huge bruise already darkening over his ribs.

"Lucky shot," Kozik told her huskily. "It's nothing."

Kissing him again, her tongue tangling with his, Tasha slipped her arms around his neck and let her fingers run through his blonde hair as he pulled her onto his lap. Her lips trailed from his to press feather-light kisses along his jaw, while his mouth rained hot kisses anywhere he could find bare skin.

"I do love you," she said breathlessly. "You do know that, right?"

That grin of his that had been missing for too long back in force as deep blue eyes met clear green. "I know. And I love you too, gorgeous – now shut up and let me prove it ..."

She squeaked in surprise as he lifted her easily and then dropped her on her back in the centre of his bed, pausing only to kick off his boots before joining her. But one big hand fisted in the delicate material of her top, only to be stilled by both of hers. She could see the doubt in his eyes as he looked down at her and she offered him an apologetic little smile. "Easy, tough guy. You rip this top, Lyla's gonna kick your ass."

Sitting back on his heels, he wiped a hand over his face and then gave in to laughter. "My old lady borrowing clothes from a porn star ... Not gonna lie, I dunno how I'm supposed to feel about this."

With a little grin of her own, Tasha shrugged and reached for the hem of the item in question, carefully tugging it over her head and tossing it aside, biting her lip as she looked up at him. "How 'bout we figure that out later?"


End file.
